Broaden Your Horizon
by ReluctantSlashFan
Summary: A freak accident takes away one of Shawn's senses...
1. Chapter 1

**I'm sure this idea has been done to death, but I couldn't help writing it :)**

**Psych**

**1990…**

Shawn knew something was up when his dad picked him up from school. Usually, he just walked home with Gus, his dad still at work when his school day ended. Henry Spencer rarely took a day off, so Shawn couldn't help feeling a tad worried. Did something happen to his mother? To Uncle Jack?

"Hi Dad," he said carefully as he got into his father's truck.

"Hey Shawn," Henry replied smiling. If he was smiling, then nothing terrible had happened. Maybe his parents were finally going to get Shawn a dog. Or adopt Gus so he could live with them permanently. Shawn had asked sixteen times, and he was sure Mr. and Mrs. Guster wouldn't mind.

Shawn opened his mouth, ready to ask his dad if he was going to get either of those things, but was surprised when Henry tossed him a tie. "Aw, Dad, not this again," Shawn whined remembering the last time his father tied a tie around his eyes. His perfectly good essay (that Gus spent over an hour on) had been thrown in the garbage.

"Tie the tie over your eyes, Shawn," Henry spoke over his son. Grumbling, Shawn did as he was told, just as Henry pulled up to their house. "Okay," his father continued and Shawn heard him put the truck into park. "I'm going to help you down."

The driver side door opened and closed. Shawn waited a beat before he felt his door open, the California breeze tickling his bare arm. His father helped him down, keeping a grip on him until he was settled, and then said, "Okay, now I want you to use your other senses to find your way to the front door."

"Dad," Shawn protested rolling his eyes.

"Shawn, just do it."

He rolled his eyes again, but automatically put his right hand to his head. He thought a moment, letting his mind conjure a clear picture of the yard. Why use his other senses when he could remember exactly what the yard looked like?

Once he was certain he had the yard just right, he started walking. One step, two steps, three steps, maneuvering around the picnic table, four steps, five…

He tripped, landing painfully on the ground. He tore the blind fold off, seeing that he had tripped over his old tricycle. Why his parents never threw it out was beyond him.

"That's not fair," he snapped scrambling to his feet.

"I told you to use your other senses not your memory," Henry snapped back. "You can't always rely on your eyes, Shawn."

"This is stupid," Shawn spat throwing the tie on the ground. "How is making me trip over my old bike helping me become a better cop? Ugh, why can't you just tell cheesy jokes and embarrassing stories like normal dads?" And he stormed into the house, slamming the door behind him.

**Psych**

**Present Day…**

Shawn could hear Gus grumbling behind him, but ignored his friend as he lurked behind the police cars. Lassiter didn't want him there, it wasn't hard to read Lassie, but how could Shawn miss this? Someone had been killed in a clown car. Or, as Gus called it, an eco car (Shawn had totally heard it both ways).

"I mean, seriously Gus, think about it? Was the clown happy? Was it sad? Did he make Bozo mad or maybe Ronald McDonald is after him."

"Shawn, we should not be here," Gus hissed following close behind him. "Besides, didn't I tell you it's a…"

"We have to get on this case," Spencer muttered, ignoring his friend, ducking under the yellow tape. He noticed Lassiter talking to McNab while Jules checked over the crime scene with a CSI guy. Shawn quickly let his eyes scan the area, trying to take in as much stuff as he could so his 'vision' would get him on the case.

The guy behind the wheel wasn't a clown, something that disappointed Shawn greatly, but a forty-something, graying brunette. He had been shot, in the chest, through the windshield, at point blank range. Foot prints suggested the killer had run off to the north. He was clutching something in his fist, Shawn could see the paper between his fingers, but was fairly certain Jules and Lassie missed it. At first glance, it looked just like he had died with a laxed fist, and neither had Henry Spencer as a father. So, Shawn didn't blame them for missing it.

"Oh my God!" he shouted and Lassiter, Jules, the CSI guy, and McNab looked his way.

"Oh for the love of…" Lassie muttered and stalked towards Shawn. "Go away, Spencer."

"I see, I see…" Shawn put his hand to the side of his head. He picked his other hand up and started shaking it, walking towards the car. "Something...Something…

"But isn't that just flesh?" he muttered to himself. "Oh, I apologize." He looked at the body again and pointed at his hand. "Check his hand, Jules! Check his hand!"

She grabbed the guy's hand, reveling nothing, and Lassiter flashed Shawn a triumphant look. Shawn shook his head and said, "Not that one. And yes, spirits, that was too uncalled for."

"What did they say?" Juliet asked curiously.

"Oh for Pete's sake," Lassiter snapped stalking forward and snatching the other hand up. He opened the man's fist, taking out the crumpled piece of paper. He pulled it free, unfolding it to reveal a valet ticket from a restaurant a few blocks away.

"Thank you spirits," Shawn said quietly. He waited a beat and muttered, "No, you're the best." he was quiet another few seconds. "No you are." Again he waited and then, "Oh, okay, if you insist."

"Spencer," Lassie growled.

"Shawn," Gus hissed.

"Can I be on this case?" Shawn asked ignoring both his friend and the head detective.

"Go away, Spencer," Lassiter repeated stalking back to McNab.

"I found a lead! An actual lead!" When Lassiter ignored him, Shawn pulled his phone from his pocket and said, "Fine, Lassifrass, I'll just call my dad!" Still, Carlton didn't say anything, though Shawn did notice his shoulders tense slightly. "Okay!" He scrolled through his contacts, hitting send on his father's cell phone. "And when I get on the case," he started, the phone ringing, barely noticing how hot it felt against his hand, "I'm going to do the 'Shawn is on the case despite what Lassie said' dance!

"Yep, definitely going to do that dance!" Shawn shouted as the phone rang a second time.

"Uh, Shawn," he heard Gus say, but he ignored his friend.

"And it'll go like this!" He started thrusting his body, waving his free hand in the air, and spinning in a circle. "And they'll be a song! It'll be 'Lassie can't stop me from getting on the case, yeah. Lassie can't stop me from…"

"Shawn!" he heard Gus and Jules shout together.

"Guys I'm just messing with…" he heard a faint pop. Pain unlike anything he had ever felt spread across his face and eyes and everything went black.

**Psych**

Gus had noticed Shawn's phone had started smoking, had tried to warn his friend before anything bad happened, but the faux-psychic had been too busy bugging Lassiter to really pay attention. And now he was down on the ground, letting out cries of pain, his phone lying next to him in pieces.

"Lassiter call an ambulance," Juliet called over her shoulder as she and Gus rushed to Shawn's side.

"Shawn? Shawn, are you okay?" Gus asked his friend's hands covering his face. "Let me see, Shawn. Come on."

"Ah, Gus, it hurts," Shawn muttered his breath hitching.

"Let me see," Gus repeated and pried Shawn's hands away. The skin around his face was red and his eyes were squeezed shut. Burton let his eyes settle on the phone again, his eyebrows furrowing, and hurriedly he got to his feet.

"Gus?" Jules looked up at him, fear and worry etched across her face.

"I need water bottles," he said rushing towards his car. He knew Shawn had had one despite Gus telling him no more eating or drinking in the Blueberry. He found it under Shawn's seat, probably the worst hiding place ever, and ran back towards his friend.

Lassiter joined them a few seconds later, holding another water bottle. He handed it to Gus saying, "Ambulance is on its way." Burton could tell the cop was worried, but any traces of his true feelings were gone from his face.

"Okay, Shawn, I'm going to need you to open your eyes," Gus said softly trying to staunch his own panic. The longer they waited, Shawn's chances of seeing became less and less.

"I can't," Shawn whispered sounding more scared than Gus had ever heard him. This was the same guy who broke his leg in high school, after he was dared to jump from Missy Stinson's roof to her pool-while completely sober-and afterwards tried to convince Gus he didn't need a hospital. He was the same guy who crashed his bike into tree, the summer after he turned thirteen, and had managed to walk three blocks home with a concussion. Shawn Spencer didn't panic, at least not openly. Gus wasn't used to this.

"Come on, Shawn. For me." Gus waited a beat, and Shawn finally managed to peel his eyes open. Once they were open wide enough, Gus unscrewed one of the water bottles and poured water into Shawn's eyes. Instinctually, the faux-psychic closed them.

"No, Shawn, open them again," Gus demanded and his friend slowly did as he was told. Gus poured more water into his eyes, trying to ignore how weird it felt to have Shawn Spencer actually listen to him.

He continued to clean out his friend's eyes until the ambulance showed up. The EMTs took over for him, and they put Shawn on a gurney and pushed him towards the waiting bus. Gus made to follow, but one of the EMTs stopped him and said, "Sorry, sir, but unless you're family..."

"But he's my…"

"You can follow us," she said and hopped into the back, closing the doors behind her.

"Uh, call Mr. Spencer!" Gus called over his shoulder rushing towards his car.

"O'Hara!" he heard Lassiter shout and was soon joined by Juliet.

"We're about to hand the crime scene over to CSI," Jules informed Gus. He nodded, getting into the driver side.

"Meet us there, Carlton!" she informed her partner before sliding into the passenger side. Gus started the Blueberry, put it in drive, and followed the ambulance away from the crime scene.

**Psych**

Henry burst into the hospital's waiting room, spotting Jules and Gus sitting opposite each other. Both weren't talking, the worry on each of their faces rivaling the other. He moved across the room, sitting next to Gus.

"What happened?" he demanded looking between the two. "Lassiter said something about Shawn's phone exploding."

"I didn't think it was possible…" Gus muttered looking down at his hands. "It just doesn't seem possible."

"His phone actually exploded?" Henry had been skeptical when Lassiter told him, figuring the cop had finally done what he had threatened to do the past six years. "Well, where is he?"

Before either could respond, Lassiter showed up. He sat down next to Juliet, let his blue eyes scan the faces of each person, and asked, "Have we learned anything?" They shook their heads in reply.

"His doctor has to be around here somewhere," Henry stated pushing himself to his feet. He wanted to know what was going on with his son, and he wanted to know now. He started to leave the waiting area, but stopped when he spotted a doctor walking towards them.

"Are you all here for Shawn Spencer?" he asked when he was in hearing range.

"Yeah, how's my son?" Henry questioned sensing the others gathering behind him.

"As of right now he can't see," the doctor replied softly. "I'm sure it's just temporary, and had Mr. Guster not acted it could have been a lot worse, but I still need to run some tests to be sure. Best case, he'll vision will return with time."

"And worst case?" Henry questioned already knowing the answer.

"He could need surgery to fix the damage and if that doesn't work…" the doctor trailed off, but they filled in the silence themselves. There was a chance Shawn could never see again.

**Psych**

**Okay, I shouldn't be publishing this, but I wanted to get back into writing for Psych. So, consider this an experiment. If I get enough interest I'll continue and if not... Well, I can always go back to the drawing board.**

**So, thanks for reading, drop me a comment if you can, and I own nothing.**

**P.S. What happened to Shawn is probably not one-hundred percent possible, but I wanted it to happen in an unusual way. And he's always on that phone.**

**Bye...**


	2. Chapter 2

According to his doctor, Shawn's vision should slowly start to come back over the next couple of weeks, as long as he took his eye drops. Until then, he should protect his eyes as best as he could. He tried to act as if nothing had happened, tried to make cheesy jokes, but the fact of the matter was, until his vision came back, he would need to rely on his memory and the others around him for help.

He sat in the passenger seat of his dad's truck, his sunglasses over his bandaged eyes, feeling every, single bump his dad drove over. He could hear every breath Henry took, knew when his father was going to say something but thought better of it, and was so close to telling his father to say something. The silence, or the nonverbal silence, was killing Shawn.

"Are you okay?" Henry finally asked when Shawn opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm fine, Dad," the younger man replied, resting his head against the passenger window.

"Do you want to stop for something to eat?"

_You can go back to the silence now,_ Shawn thought already sick of the 'walking on egg shells' voice his father was using. Instead, he repeated, "I'm fine, Dad.

"Man, all this attention I'm getting, I should have gone blind years ago," Shawn retorted sarcastically. His father sighed heavily but didn't say another word the rest of the drive.

Shawn felt the truck slow down a while later and come to a complete stop. He heard his father put it into park, heard the keys turn in the ignition, and knew it was his cue to get out of the truck.

"I'll help you," Henry's voice said, but Shawn shook his head and felt around for the door handle. He pushed his door open and slid from the truck. He almost lost his footing, but blindly (_no pun intended,_ he thought bitterly) grabbed for anything. He caught the door, managing to keep himself up.

"Shawn!" he heard Henry call. The driver side door was thrown open and Shawn could hear his dad's footsteps race around the front of the truck to get to his side. "I told you I would help you," Henry said softly, trying to grab Shawn's arm.

"Dad, I am fine," Shawn snapped wrenching free of his father. "I just want to be left alone." He then walked across the lawn, relying on his memory and his other senses to get him to the front door. He could hear his father following close behind.

Once Henry let him inside (Shawn couldn't believe it had been six years and his father still wouldn't trust him with a key to his house), Shawn made his way to the couch, again relying on his memory. His father was a creature of habit, he rarely...

"Oof," Shawn said feeling a momentary spike of pain sear through his left side as he ran into something. "What the hell?"

"I bought a new end table," Henry announced and Shawn felt his father take his arm and guide him around it.

"Who the hell uses words like end table?" the faux-psychic asked lowering himself onto the couch. "And when did you do that?"

"It was delivered yesterday, before I got the call about your accident."

Shawn nodded, in what he hoped was his father's direction, and leaned his head back. He would have turned the television on, but what was the point when he couldn't see anyone? It wasn't the same if he just had to listen to the dialogue.

He knew his father was hovering, could still hear Henry's breathing, and knew his dad just wanted to help. Taking a breath-it wasn't Henry's fault he couldn't see-Shawn slowly let it out and said, "Dad, I wouldn't mind a sandwich."

"I will make you one," his father announced and Shawn tracked his footsteps as he left the room.

To get his mind off what had happened, Shawn thought about the case. He had heard Jules and Lassie talking, just before his father brought him home, and knew they were no closer to finding the perp than they were yesterday.

He went over the evidence that he had found: valet ticket, close range shot, and footsteps fleeing the scene. It could have easily been a mugging gone wrong, but Shawn seriously doubted that.

He heard his father return and soon a sandwich was handed to him, along with a glass of some liquid. By the smell, it was milk. Great, he was being treated like a four-year-old.

"Thanks Dad," he said softly, taking a bite of the sandwich he didn't want. He heard Henry sit down in his purple easy chair. The creaking of the cushion was the only indication it was, in fact, that chair.

For a while they sat in silence while Shawn finished the sandwich and the milk. When he put the plate and glass on the coffee table, knowing it had been there the last time he had been over, he heard his father sigh and say, "It could have been worse."

"I can't do Psych without being able to see, Dad," Shawn responded in a forced calm voice.

"Shawn you have four, very good senses left. Being a detective isn't always about seeing. Have I taught you nothing?" The younger man heard his father get to his feet. He felt a hand clamp on his shoulder and his father said, "Sometimes, it doesn't hurt to broaden your horizons." The hand left Shawn's shoulder and he listened the footsteps leave the room.

His father just didn't understand. Shawn had relied on his eyes his whole life. Even before Psych, he would impress people with how much he could remember by just glancing around the room. And as temporary as his sightlessness was, there was still a murderer out there, one that wasn't going to care if he could see or not.

No one would understand just how much he needed to see. And neither of them-not Gus, Henry, Jules, Lassie, or Vick-would understand just how it felt to _not_ be able to see. He was alone in this, no matter how much they tried to help.

**Psych**

**Yeah, this was full of Shawn angst. I love Shawn angst, but know they can't do it in the show as much as I want because Psych's a comedy and not a drama. Oh well, that's what Fanfiction is for :D**

**So, thanks so much for reviewing, alerting, and favoriting last chapter. You guys are awesome.**

**So, drop me a comment if you can, I own nothing, and thanks for reading.**

**PEACE OUT...**


	3. Chapter 3

Henry had to run out to get Shawn's prescription, so he called Gus to sit with the faux-psychic. For a while the two friends sat in silence. Gus did try to start a conversation several times, but it seemed Shawn just didn't want to talk.

"Gus," Shawn said suddenly and Burton's head whipped around to look at his friend. "Have you spoken to Lassie and Jules? Are they still stuck?"

"No, Shawn, I haven't talked to them," Gus replied softly. He knew what his friend was doing; he was trying to concentrate on something else. When they were kids, and he was upset, he'd put more effort into his latest scheme. Now that they were adults, it seemed he was more inclined to put his energies into Psych. And this time was no exception.

"Shawn," Burton started slowly. "I don't think you should be thinking about work."

"I've gone over the scene several times, Gus," Spencer continued as if his friend hadn't spoken. "I remember seeing the valet ticket…" he trailed off. "I wonder if they spoke to the valet, yet."

"I'm sure they have," Gus commented knowing he wasn't going to stray Shawn from the path he was already on. Sometimes, though it was becoming more of a rare occurrence in recent years, he had been able to distract the other guy, but this time Gus could tell that a distraction wasn't in the cards.

"I think we should go talk to him or her," Shawn announced getting to his feet and started towards the door, using his other senses to 'see.'

"What?" Burton exclaimed bounding to his own feet and chasing after his friend.

"I can't sit around here, Gus. Not when there is a murderer out there. I'm not going to feel useless."

"Shawn, you're not useless," Gus informed his oldest friend. Shawn didn't respond, instead he made it to the door and opened it. "Shawn, come on, think about this. If you leave Henry will kill me."

"Gus, either you come with me or I go myself. I think I know this city well enough to find the bus stop."

Before Gus could stop him, Shawn walked out the door and down the steps. He was torn between going with his friend and helping or dragging him back into the house. He opted to go with Shawn and call Henry on the way.

However, they were barely on the road, Gus at a stop sign with his phone out, when Shawn said, "Don't you dare call my dad." For a split second, Gus thought his friend had seen the screen, but that was impossible for two reasons. One) Shawn's head was turned towards the window and two) Shawn physically couldn't see the phone.

"How did you…?"

"Gus, I recognize the scrolling sounds from your personal phone, my dad's number is seventeenth on your contacts list, and we've been stopped at this stop sign for way longer than the average person."

"And how did you…?"

"Know we were at a stop sign? We've been on the road for less than two minutes, you took a left, and I know for a fact that there is a stop sign at the end of this road." It was quiet for a few seconds and then Shawn said, "Besides, you took the wrong turn anyway. The restaurant was to the right of my dad's house."

Burton had seen his friend do some extraordinary things. Most people couldn't put together a reenactment with random stuff around the office and markers. Most people couldn't recall an entire conversation while playing video games. Most people didn't notice the small detail that could make or break a case. Shawn had a brilliant mind, one he could do anything with, and had he not spent half his life screwing around he could have done something amazing with his life.

With that being said, Gus had never seen Shawn's mind work like that. Burton could see Shawn knowing which way they turned, and maybe the stop sign thing, but to remember which way the restaurant really was. To know, not only, where Henry Spencer was in Gus' contacts, but to also know how many times the other man scrolled. Henry really did make Shawn into a damn near perfect investigator.

"Did anyone ever tell you, you are like Columbo?" Gus questioned curiously, adjusting his route.

"I'd like to think of myself more like Patrick Jane. I look more like a Simon than a Peter," Shawn joked absentmindedly. He then rested his head against the window and said nothing else.

**Psych**

The restaurant was busy. Shawn could hear a sea of voices, from a new couple to arguing veterans. There were parents, old folks, friends, and office people out for lunch: people, people, and more people. It reminded Shawn of a messed up version of a Dr. Seuss book.

He walked past someone wearing a strange perfume, felt someone else run into him, and could smell the food being cooked in the background. But he ignored it all, feeling his way to the host's podium.

"May I help you?" a snooty voice asked and Shawn pictured a balding, thin man with a bad mustache and an even worse temper.

"Hello good sir," Shawn responded turning towards the general area of the man's voice. "I am Shawn Spencer, and this," he gestured to where he thought Gus was standing, "is my seeing-eye human Sparky. I'm sure he has a real name, but I barely paid attention."

"Seeing-eye human?" the snooty voice questioned slowly.

"I don't trust dogs," Shawn replied without skipping a beat. "Besides, I feed Sparky treats. Isn't' that right, Spark?"

Gus didn't take the bait, save for a huffed breath, and instead said, "We were wondering if we can talk to your valets. We're investigators with the Santa Barbara…

"Is this about the dead guy?" the man hissed and Shawn could picture him looking around for anyone listening.

"Can we just see your valets?" Shawn questioned without responded to the question.

"They're out back," the host replied after a few seconds pause and Gus thanked the man, taking Shawn's sleeve as the door opened. He heard a group of people walk in, and if it wasn't for Gus guiding him, he would have surely ended up following the wrong person. _God, I hate this_, he thought as he ran into another person.

Once they were outside, they started searching for the valets. Twice Gus had to steer Shawn away from a crowd, and Shawn was starting to get fed up with all the help. He had four other senses, he could figure it out, he wasn't useless.

Finally, they managed to get out back. Shawn could smell cigarette smoke, sweat, and the unmistakable scent of strong aftershave. Aftershave guy also happened to be the one to speak, "What can I do for you?"

Skipping over the silly introduction, Shawn barely wanting to do it to Snooty McSnootypants inside, he just asked, "Who was working the night after last?"

"Why?" Aftershave questioned curiously, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"We're investigators," Gus responded quickly.

"And I'm a psychic," Shawn said without thinking. It was after the words left his mouth that he mentally kicked himself. How was he supposed to do his 'thing' if he couldn't see?

"Psychic, huh? Yeah, and I'm the queen of Timbuktu," a female voice said from behind the aftershave guy. Shawn couldn't be one-hundred percent certain, but he guessed she was one of the smokers.

Okay, this was his time to prove to them what he was. He had four other senses, they worked fairly well, he could come up with something. So, out of habit, he closed his eyes and put his fingertips to the side of his head. He listened and sniffed, hoping to catch something, anything.

He heard a slight wheeze from someone, barely detectable, but no doubt bothersome to the person. He smelled old carrots, most likely a stain from a child. And he heard the stomach growl from someone, though he was fairly certain it was loud enough for everyone to hear, so he let it go.

"Fine, you," he pointed in the direction of the baby food smell. "Have a young child at home, and were in too much of a hurry to change your shirt. Though, you figured, since the color almost matched the carrots, you could get away with it."

"I-I'm watching my niece's baby for a few days," a woman's voice said, different from the skeptic's.

"And you," he pointed in the direction of Wheezer. "Have been fighting a cold for a few days, and it bothers you that the wheezing just won't give up."

"It's almost gone, I know it's almost gone," a male's voice said softly.

"That's not proof," the woman-who may or may not be a smoker-said and Shawn heard her knock into Aftershave as she stepped forward. "You could have easily heard Morris' wheeze and saw Sylvia's shirt."

"He can't see," Gus supplied before Shawn could open his mouth.

"Fine, then he smelled the carrots. Whatever."

Shawn just went for broke and said, "Okay, your highness, I sense you've been trying to quit smoking for a while now, but just seemed to keep going back to it. Most likely because of a break up or a death, but I'm shooting for the break up. All this hostility towards men is the dead giveaway."

Maybe Smoker was quiet for a second before swearing and storming away. On the outside, Shawn hoped his looked a tad smug, while on the inside he was thanking his lucky stars that he had been right. Sometimes following his gut was better than relying on his senses.

It was quiet for a few seconds, but finally Aftershave asked, "So, you wanted to know who was working two night ago?"

"Yeah," Gus replied and Shawn nodded.

"Just the usual: me, Sylvia, Morris, and Annie." Aftershave trailed off, thinking it over. "Oh, and Sam, but we haven't seen him today. He was supposed to start his shift an hour ago."

"And where does Sam live?"

"We already told the cops that this morning. I'm sure they're already there," Aftershave commented slowly.

"We just want to know," Shawn stated with a smile.

"Fine, only because I like you two better than the Sasquatch that was here." And he told them the address which Shawn memorized quickly. It sure beat Gus scribbling it down; even though he did, the faux-psychic heard him.

"Do you really think Sam killed that guy?" Aftershave asked before the two guys could walk away.

"We'll find out," Gus assured the group of valets and he and Shawn walked back to the Blueberry.

**Psych**

By using the GPS on Gus' phone, they managed to get to Sam the valet's place in a matter of minutes. Only, the found it sealed off by yellow police tape, officers scattered everywhere, and Lassie and Jules coming out of the house, the former removing a pair of gloves.

"I think Sam isn't our suspect," Gus commented slowly.

"Why's that?" Shawn asked but Gus had a feeling he had already heard the commotion.

"Because I think he's dead," Burton answered as he watched a sheet covered gurney get pushed out of the house.

"Well, there went out lead."

**Psych**

**Hey guys, sorry this is a little late. But I am updating so YAH!**

**Anyway, thanks for reviewing, alerting, and/or favorting last chapter. You guys are awesome.**

**So drop a comment if you can, anything recognizable is not mine, and thanks for reading.**

**BYE**


	4. Chapter 4

When he and Gus walked into the house, Shawn could smell his father's cologne moments before he heard Henry snap, "Where the hell have you two been?"

"Mr. Spencer!" Gus exclaimed and Shawn could hear him jump in freight.

"Hey Dad," Shawn responded smiling in the direction he had heard Henry's voice.

"Answer my question, Shawn," Henry demanded and the faux-psychic could 'see' his father glaring between the two younger guys.

"We were investigating," Shawn replied moving past his father towards the living room.

"What?" the older man balked as he chased after his son.

"Investigating, Dad," the younger man repeated, using his other senses to find the couch, keeping in mind the new end table. He slowly lowered himself onto the cushions and said, "You know, my job."

"Shawn, there is no damn way I am putting you on this case," Henry snapped. Shawn heard his father move around the couch to stand in front of him.

"The cops are obviously missing something," Shawn pointed out as calmly as he could. "They could use my help. Besides, weren't you the one who told me to 'broaden my horizon'?"

"Not for this case. Kid, you've only been out of the hospital for a couple hours."

"And I want to do my job," the faux-psychic argued.

"No."

"Shawn," Gus said softly, "maybe your father is right."

"I'm not going to give up on this case," Shawn snapped getting to his feet and turning towards Gus' voice. "I can't give up on this case." And he stormed out of the room, once again hitting his leg on the end table, forgetting it was there in his anger. "And somebody move that damn thing," he snarled before feeling his way towards the stairs.

"Shawn, you're not working this case," Henry informed him, his voice quiet.

"Try and stop me, Dad," Shawn responded as he rushed up the steps as quickly as he could. They weren't stopping him from working this case, he'd find a way.

**Psych**

Gus shared a quick look with Henry, recalling what Shawn had said earlier about feeling useless. He understood why he wanted to work, probably more than anyone (even Henry… maybe), but he also knew the older Spencer had a point. Shawn shouldn't be working so soon after hurting himself.

"Go," Henry said nodding towards the stairs, and Gus nodded, quickly chasing after his friend.

He walked down the hallway, noticing one of the pictures had been knocked askew. He was fairly certain Shawn knew the hallway better than anyone, but even with two working eyes he sometimes managed to knock into things; he was prone to a few more accidents now that he lost his sight.

Gus stopped outside of Shawn's childhood room, lightly knocking on the door. "Shawn," he said softly, "can I come in?" Without waiting for a response, Gus pushed the door opened, and his eyes widened at the sight.

"Shawn!" Gus shouted as he raced across the room and yanked his friend back into the room. He had been trying to climb out the window. "What the hell's the matter with you?"

"Let me go, Gus," Shawn snapped just as his friend lightly shoved him onto his bed. "I'm trying to get out of here."

"By climbing out of a window? The only thing you were going to do is break your neck."

"Gus, I know this house's roof better than anyone. I climbed down it a hundred times."

"Shawn," Burton started clasping his hands together, speaking as patiently as he could, "you can't see. What did you expect to do, feel your way to the drain pipe and pray you didn't fall?"

"Gus, I can't sit here and do nothing," Shawn argued but made no move to get up. He looked a little depressed and Gus hated seeing his friend like that. "I told you, I don't want to feel…"

"Yeah, I get it. You don't want to feel useless, but breaking your neck isn't going to solve anything." Gus sucked in a deep breath, letting his interlocked fingers rest on the back of his head. He had already established he wasn't going to talk Shawn out of this, but there was no damn way Henry was going to let him continue this investigation.

An idea suddenly hit, but Gus wasn't sure if it would work. However, it wasn't going to hurt to suggest it. "Okay, maybe you _can_ work on this case."

"How?" Shawn perked up slightly, looking more like the old Shawn.

"I don't think you'll like it."

**Psych**

"Absolutely not," Henry snapped looking between the two boys. He couldn't believe what they were suggesting, but he wasn't exactly surprised either.

"I told you, Gus," Shawn said looking miserably towards his friend.

"Look, Mr. Spencer, I know Shawn wants to work on this case. And what better way to give him what he wants than to have you come along with us."

"He just got out of the hospital."

"Please, keep talking about me like I'm not even here," Shawn commented, a bitter edge to his voice. He crossed his arm and glared at the table. "I don't mind."

Henry knew he could easily give in to his son's wishes. It wasn't like he was going to be doing anything dangerous, especially if Henry was hanging around to keep an eye on him. And it _was_ his day off.

"Fine," he said and both younger guys perked up. "But under two conditions." He could tell Gus was ready to take the conditions while Shawn looked like he'd rather lose a finger. "One) anything we find goes directly to Lassiter and O'Hara…"

"But Dad…"

"…and two," Henry continued speaking over his son, "if anything starts to get too dangerous or we get in way over our heads we back out. Do we have a deal?" Gus nodded, while Shawn looked like he wanted to argue. However, the prospect of getting to investigate must have won out, because he eventually nodded, too.

"Good, now tell me what you have."

**Psych**

**I'm sorry this has been very pro-exposition/rising action (more exposition than rising action I guess), and I promise there will be some form or action sometime soon (I hope), so just bear with me. And if that didn't make any sense I apologize for my erratic mind.**

**Anyway, thanks for the reviews, alerts, and favs last chapter. You guys are amazing.**

**So, drop a comment if you want, thanks for reading, and I own nothing.**

**PEACE OUT...**


	5. Chapter 5

**What's this? Werewolf Girl is actually updating this story? OMG, someone alert the press :P**

**Yes, I have been MIA for this story and another for a while. I have been swamped with other projects and real life. Sometimes I wonder if mainlining caffeine would help me get more done? Coffee here I come :D**

**Anyway, thanks for the reviews, alerts, and favorites last chapter. You guys are amazing.  
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**So, thanks for reading, drop me a comment if you can, and I own nothing.**

**PEACE OUT!**

**Psych**

Shawn followed his father and Gus into the police station, tracking their scents. He heard the commotion of police officers speaking and rushing back and forth across the floor. It was just an everyday police station going about its everyday life. It was almost normal, except for the one key detail: Shawn still couldn't see.

"I see Jules and Lassie," Gus whispered to Shawn and the direction of his scent changed. Shawn kept after it, running into someone.

"Sorry Shawn," Buzz said cheerfully. Shawn heard the taller cop stop and somberly say, "How are you doing? And what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be recuperating?"

His questions must have gotten Juliet's attention because her voice soon said, "Yeah, Shawn, what are you doing here?" he felt her take his arm, almost as if he were crippled, and lead him towards something. It seemed to be her chair as he was gently lowered into it.

"I'm blind not invalid," Shawn commented drily and could almost see her flinch.

"Spencer, unless you've gotten a 'vision,' I don't think we need your help," Lassiter's voice said, sounding less condescending than it usually did when he was speaking to Shawn.

"What do you have on the dead guy?" Henry questioned before Shawn could retort to Lassiter's statement.

"He took three shots to the chest," Juliet responded most likely against Lassiter's wishes.

"Same way the first victim was killed," Gus pointed out softly.

"The exact same way. Three shots to the chest, point blank," Juliet replied and Shawn could hear her hair brush against her shoulder as she nodded.

"Any new leads?" Shawn asked curiously almost seeing Lassiter flash the small group an annoyed look.

"Nothing that concerns you," Carlton said slowly, fighting to keep his patience.

"He's right Shawn. You should be recuperating." It was the same word Buzz had used, and Shawn knew for a fact that that was _not_ what Lassiter meant.

"Can't we just hang out?" he asked curiously, looking Juliet's way, and pouting slightly. "Just for a few minutes? It's boring at my dad's place. All he does is watch fishing shows. Besides, I need my Jules time." He hated lying to her, but he had to be involved in this case, even if she wanted him to stay away.

"If you promise to go back to your dad's place," Juliet started after a moment's pause, "you can stay with me tonight. Plenty of Jules time." And she pecked his lips just as her phone rang. She pulled away from him, and he heard her remove the offending thing from her pocket. "O'Hara."

"_It's Woody,_" Shawn could just make out. "_I think I have something on your dead guy. And no, it's not my DNA this time. I swear I didn't even know…_"

"We'll be right there," Juliet interrupted him and snapped her phone shut. "Let's go, Carlton. See ya tonight," she said to Shawn before giving him another quick kiss. Shawn listened to their footsteps move away from the desk, counting the seconds before he knew they were out of ear shot.

"Is Buzz around?" he whispered smacking, what he hoped, was Gus's arm.

"No, why?" Gus asked curiously.

"Tell me everything you can. Describe the evidence before they get back," he whispered back. He thought he heard his father sigh heavily, but ignored Henry.

"Uh," Gus was quiet for a second while he studied everything the cops had. Shawn waited impatiently, tapping his hands on his knees. Finally, his friend took a breath and said, "Like Jules said, Sam took three shots to the chest like the first victim. It also says there were footprints out front of his house that match the ones found at the first crime scene."

"What size shoe?" Shawn asked curiously.

"Nine," Gus replied softly.

"Anything else?"

"No."

Shawn leaned back in the chair, thinking over everything he had learned. He had a feeling the first victim and Sam were connected somehow. It wasn't just the restaurant either. Unless Sam saw the first victim get shot, and the killer was just cleaning up his or her mess.

"We need to get down to the morgue without Lassie and Jules seeing us," Shawn finally said, leaning forward to let his elbow rest on his knees.

"I know," Gus replied not sounding very happy about that nor surprised.

"What about you, Dad? What do you think?" Shawn asked surprised his father had been quiet this long. When he didn't get an answer he tried again, "Dad?"

"He's not here, Shawn," Gus said sounding confused. "How did we miss that?"

"How did I miss that?"

**Psych**

Henry knew his son was a bad influence if he was lingering around the morgue, listening in on other people's conversations. He wondered when their roles were reversed.

He listened carefully as Woody explained the bullets from Sam matched the bullets found in the first victim. He also mentioned something about Sam having sex moments before his death. Henry didn't recall that being on the evidence board, and figured Lassiter and Juliet hadn't noticed until Woody said something.

Henry listened a few more minutes, but only managed to hear a very tasteless joke told by the ME. He then hurried back towards the stairs, barely managing to miss getting spotted by Juliet and Lassiter.

He hurried through the bullpen, noticing Shawn and Gus searching for him, and quickly collected them. He ushered them out the door before sharing with them his findings. It felt wrong to be going against his fellow men in blue, but it was either go against his morals or have Shawn lurking around the morgue and risk hurting himself.

When he finished his son and Gus were quiet for a moment, but finally Shawn muttered, "So, we can cross Aftershave and Wheezer off the list.

"What?" Henry asked looking between the two and receiving a shrug from Gus.

"I've been thinking that maybe the killer worked at the restaurant. And unless Sam happened to be batting for the other team, I am fairly certain his killer and the first victim's is a woman. So, Aftershave and Wheeze couldn't have killed him. Neither," he continued sounding slightly disappointed, "could McSnootypants,"

"So that leaves us the lady with the baby food and the one you pissed off," Gus commented and Shawn nodded.

"I think we should have a talk with Smoker," Shawn suggested and turned to head towards the direction of Henry's truck. He called over his shoulder, "You coming or what? I'm sure you don't want me driving."

Henry and Gus exchanged a quick look before chasing after Shawn. Spencer Senior was torn by his son's attitude. For one, he was glad Shawn had stopped moping around for the time being, but on the other hand he was afraid if Shawn wasn't more careful, he could end up hurt or worse.

**Psych**

Smoker-or Annie as her friends and co-workers liked to call her-wasn't there when they arrived at the restaurant. Aftershave-or Emmanuel-told them her shift ended about a half an hour ago. He also told them that she had nothing to do with those murders, but Shawn managed to talk him into giving over her address anyway.

Gus really hoped this lead didn't end with another dead body. He wasn't sure he could handle going back to square one, especially when Shawn was acting more like his old self since his accident.

Henry pulled up to Annie's house, Gus almost convincing himself that the SBPD's finest would be parked out front of her place, but was relieved to see her driveway empty. The relief turned into wonderment when it appeared she wasn't home. Where would she go after a long day of working: the bar, to get more cigarettes, or to run from the law after murdering two people?

"I don't think she's home, Shawn," Gus commented glancing over at his friend.

"It doesn't hurt to…" Shawn was cut off by the squealing of tires. Gus looked up to see a car come speeding past them, showering Henry's truck with a spray of bullets.


	6. Chapter 6

Shawn!" Shawn heard someone call, and a fruity scent drifted towards his nose before someone crashed into him, giving him a hug. "Are you okay?" Juliet asked and Shawn felt her pull away, probably looking him over for wounds.

"Yeah," he replied softly. "My dad managed to push me and Gus out of the truck." He recalled feeling the truck rock and his dad's weight slam into his side. He felt the breeze when the passenger door was thrown open, the sensation of falling, and pain as he collided with the ground. It had happened so fast, and whoever had been shooting at them was gone by the time the small group got their bearings.

"Are you two okay?" Juliet asked no doubt directing the question at Gus and Henry.

"Fine," Gus said, his voice shaking.

"Please tell me there are traffic cams in the area?" Henry questioned either ignoring Juliet's question or nodding his head in confirmation.

"I already have McNab on it," Lassiter replied. "What happened?"

"A white, Dodge Ram van drove past, opened fire on my truck, nearly killed Shawn, Gus, and I, and then took off that way." Shawn was certain his dad pointed towards the direction the van had disappeared.

"We're going to need a statement," Lassiter stated probably looking between each guy. "Starting with what the hell you three were doing here."

"Lassie, isn't it obvious? I sensed you two were heading here, and we wanted to get a head start," Shawn replied flashing a smile Lassie's way. Or he hoped it was Lassiter's way; he _was_ following the smell of gunpowder and lead.

"Shawn, I thought you said you were going home," Juliet said in a disapproving, yet not surprised tone.

"We were, but the vision hit and we had to come here. My dad was going to call you when the van showed up. We think A…" he trailed off, his right hand automatically going to the side of his head. "Abby? Addy?"

"Annie?" Juliet supplied helpfully.

"Yes," Shawn exclaimed snapping his fingers, pointing at her, his finger lightly knocking into her nose. "The spirits think she _might_ know something."

"I guess we could check it out," Jules said after a few moments of silence. Shawn thought he heard Lassie sigh in protest. "But you need to go home. Let us take care of this, please."

Shawn opened his mouth to protest, but his father beat him to the punch. "She's right Shawn," Henry said, the underlying '_remember what you promised'_ loud and clear to the younger man's ears. Something dangerous had happened; they had to let the cops take over.

Though, his dad had to sleep sometime, and what Henry didn't know wouldn't hurt him. So, Shawn relented and accepted the ride a uniform offered-after giving their statements-while Lassiter and Juliet followed the Annie lead.

Shawn knocked into Lassie as he walked past him, apologizing with a small smile, and continued to follow his dad as Gus' phone rang.

"Hello?" Gus answered after the second ring. There was a frown in his voice when he repeated, "Hello?" He made a '_Humph_' sound before hanging the phone up. "Must have been the wrong number," he muttered as they got into the back of the squad car.

Shawn carefully removed his friend's phone from his pocket. He blamed it on several years of friendship, and not his memory, that he knew exactly which pocket Gus kept his phone. "Yeah, it must have."

**Psych**

The officer dropped Henry, Gus, and Shawn off at the older man's house. Spencer senior thanked the officer before leading the two younger guys towards the house.

"Are you _sure_ you two are okay?" Henry asked glancing back at his son and his friend. Lingering worry pulsed through his veins. His son could have been hit; _Gus_ could have been hit, and for what? Why was this mysterious van trying to kill them? The only explanation Henry could think of was they were getting too close.

"We're fine, Dad," Shawn replied as his father unlocked the front door. Henry couldn't help noticing his son's attitude. He expected Shawn to put up some sort of fight, but he seemed to have accepted not being able to work the case with no problems. Something was up, Henry just knew it.

"Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?" the older man asked both younger guys.

"I'm fine," Shawn muttered walking towards the couch, avoiding the end table.

"Do you have any more of those lemon squares from Tuesday night?" Gus asked curiously. Henry nodded, heading into the kitchen, Gus on his heels.

"Do you think Shawn gave up a little too easily?" Henry questioned softly as he dug into his fridge, grabbing a Tupperware container.

"Now that I think about it," Gus started digging into the container the moment Henry set it down. "You think he has something planned?"

"It's Shawn, when doesn't he have something planned?"

"I could talk to him," Gus suggested around a big bite of lemon square. His eyes were half closed and a barely suppressed groan of happiness escaped his lips.

"I'll do it," Henry responded shaking his head, a smirk on his face. "You just enjoy your squares."

"Mr. Spencer, these would be my last meal when I inevitably get put on death row because of Shawn," Burton informed the oldest Spencer as he left the kitchen. Henry just nodded and continued into the empty living room.

"Damn it," he hissed. Shawn was gone.

**Psych**

"_His hunch was absolutely unhelpful,"_ Lassiter's annoyed voice said.

"_You mean vision?" _Juliet replied and Shawn smiled slightly. She usually took his side with the whole 'psychic' thing no matter how many times Lassiter tried to discourage her.

"_She's not even…"_

"_Carlton."_

"_Come on." _Shawn heard two car doors open and muffled footsteps as the two cops moved across a lawn. He could also hear the traffic outside his cab and the cabbie's radio, but he was trying his hardest to tune them out.

"_Annie?" _Juliet's voice asked carefully. "_Are you Annie?"_

"_Yeah, why?"_ Smoker's voice replied suspiciously.

"_I'm Detective Lassiter, this is my partner O'Hara. We need to ask you a couple of questions regarding the murder of…"_

"_I didn't kill that man last night. And I didn't kill Sam this morning," _Annie cut Lassiter off, sounding appalled that they could even be suggesting she had anything to do with those murders. Or she could have just been appalled that Lassie was in her presence. Shawn couldn't be sure.

"_Were you with either victim before they were killed?"_ Juliet questioned and Shawn heard Annie scoff.

"_You either answer our questions now or down at the station,"_ Lassiter said impatiently. "_Were you with either victim before they died?"_

"_No, I wasn't."_

"_What size shoes do you wear?" _Lassie pressed, ignoring her answer. For the first time, Shawn was glad for Lassiter's pushiness. He had caught something in her voice that suggested she was lying.

"_What does that…?"_

"Just answer the question." Shawn whispered just as Lassiter said, "_Just answer the question_."

"_Ten why?"_

"_We found shoeprints at both scenes, size ten," _Lassiter said slowly, triumphantly.

"Oh, Lassie, now you're just being cocky," Shawn murmured, no doubt getting a weird look from the cabbie.

"_I didn't have anything…" _Annie sighed heavily, trying to calm herself down, and finally said, "_I didn't have anything to do with anyone's death. Sam and I would hook up on occasion and I've never seen the other man before in my life. Or if I did, it was for a second when I handed him his keys back. Why would I kill either one?"_

Shawn tuned out the rest of the conversation, thinking about what Annie had just said. If she hadn't killed Sam or the first victim, maybe someone she knew did. What about this boyfriend she had broke up with earlier? Unless it was Sam-and a gut feeling told Shawn it wasn't-the cops should be searching for this guy.

Maybe he had seen Annie with Sam or noticed her talking to the first victim. He figured something was happening between the two, and went after both. A crime of passion perhaps, or a moment of insanity; Shawn had to get to Psych and call Lassie and Jules. Then he could get his phone back like nothing had happened. Though now he could also brag to Gus about getting away with 'bugging' Lassiter.

The cabbie had pulled up to Psych a few moments later-or Shawn hoped he pulled up to Psych-and the faux-psychic got out. When the cabbie gave him the total, Shawn didn't respond right away. He was trying to recreate his wallet in his mind.

He had his id and a Sizzler's gift card in one pocket and one of Gus's business cards and a Psych business card in the other. There were three pictures of him and Gus, one of him and Jules, and one of Lassie with '_Go Away Spencer'_ written on the back, each one in those plastic pockets pictures go into.

He tried to recall what kind of cash he had in the bigger pocket. If he remembered correctly (and this was him, so it was a safe bet he did) he had six twenties, a ten, and a coupon for 'buy one, get one free at any Baskin Robbins.' He handed over forty of that and then said, "If I accidently slipped in the coupon, it expires in three days."

"You didn't," the cabbie replied and drove away.

"Good," Shawn muttered before heading towards Psych's doors.

He fumbled with his keys for a moment, using his memory to recall which went to the door. He used his fingers to feel along the edge of the keys, finally finding the one he needed. He went to unlock the door, but he easily swung open when his hand rested on the knob.

His hand automatically griped the cell phone in his hand, wondering if Lassiter would hear him if he yelled something, but was distracted by the smell. He knew that smell.

"Hello?" he called stepping further into the office. "Are you here to threaten me?" he continued, raising his voice, letting his free hand dart around the room in search of a weapon. It wouldn't do him much good since he couldn't see, but it'd make him feel better.

"Because if you are, at least let me buy you an ice cream first," Shawn said feeling his hand wrap around an umbrella. "I even have a coupon. Though, you can only have one scoop. It's a huge downside, I know, but look on the bright side, they have over 1000 flavors.

"Though, that's also a downside. How do you choose just one?" Shawn slipped the cell phone into his pocket, speaking louder in hopes that Lassiter or Jules would hear him. "I prefer their pineapple flavor. Gus disagrees; he thinks their coconut is better. But who the hell likes coconut?"

Shawn was beginning to think he was alone, but the floor creaked. He whirled towards the sound, listening hard, and picking up a slight gust of air leaving someone's lips. "I haven't ever been a fan of coconut," he said even louder, knowing Lassie should be able to hear him now. "Though, the ice cream truck that parks outside _Psych_ serves delicious chocolate chunk. That would have to be my second favorite, chocolate…"

He trailed off when the floorboards creaked behind him. He had enough time to swing around before he was grabbed from both sides.

**Psych**

Lassiter and Juliet were just leaving Annie's house when Carlton heard Spencer's voice. At first, he actually thought the 'psychic' was lurking around, but a quick check told Lassiter he was wrong.

"What?" Juliet asked giving him a worried look.

"Nothing," Carlton replied getting into the car.

He started the Crown Vic and began driving. It was quiet for a few minutes, but he once again heard Spencer's voice. Clear as day he said, _"Hello?"_

"Spencer?" Lassiter glanced in the back seat, expecting to see the younger man.

"Carlton, Shawn isn't here," Juliet said softly.

"I…" he knew Shawn wasn't there. An officer had taken him, his father, and Guster home. So why was he hearing Shawn's voice?

"_Are you here to threaten me?" _Spencer's voice asked curiously. Lassiter must be going crazy if he was hearing Shawn's voice. _Fantastic, Spencer has finally won._

"_Because, if you are, at least let me buy you an ice cream first," _Shawn continued, his voice even. "_I even have a coupon. Though, you can only have one scoop. It's a huge downside, I know, but look on the bright side, they have over 1000 flavors._

"_Though, that's also a downside. How do you choose just one?"_

"Shawn?" Juliet looked around, finally hearing the voice.

"_I prefer their pineapple flavor. Gus disagrees; he thinks their coconut is better. But who the hell likes coconut?"_

O'Hara's eyes zeroed in on Lassiter's jacket, and without permission she reached in and pulled out an iPhone with a green, Psych cover on the back.

"What the…?" Lassiter trailed off when Shawn continued, _"Though, the ice cream truck that parks outside __**Psych **__serves delicious chocolate chunk. That would have to be my second favorite, chocolate…"_

"Spencer," Lassiter growled, but was once again cut off when he heard the sound of a fight.

"Get to Psych," Juliet snapped flicking the siren on. She was already on her phone, no doubt calling Henry to tell him about Shawn.

Lassiter went about fifteen miles over the speed limit, reaching Psych in record time. Juliet was out of the car seconds before the Crown Vic came to a stop. She sprinted towards the front door, Lassiter steps behind her, but they found nothing but the door wide open, a trashed office, and Guster's cell phone lying on the floor in pieces.

**Psych**

**Don't kill me. If you do the story will never get finished :P But****, seriously, sorry for the cliffhangers. They are in my nature, an addiction I just cannot seem to shake. And there are no AA meetings for cliffhanger addiction. I know, I've looked...**

**Anyway, thanks for reviewing, alerting, and favoriting last chapter. You guys are awesome.**

**So, thanks for reading, I own nothing, and I'll see ya in the next chapter.**

**Drop me a comment.**

**BYE!**


	7. Chapter 7

Henry burst into the police station, Gus right on his heels, and strode towards Vick's office. He threw the door open without knocking and said, "Alright, someone better tell me where the hell my son is."

"We're working on it, Mr. Spencer," Juliet said as she stared, anxiously, at two screens with traffic footage on them. One was of the block where Henry, Gus, and Shawn had been shot at while the other was filming the street outside of Psych.

"That's the van that tried to kill us," Gus said pointing at a similar vehicle on both screens.

"Yeah, Guster, we know," Lassiter responded absentmindedly, watching as the screen paused on a flash of the van's back license plate. "Get that cleaned up," Carlton told the tech guy.

"There's no need," Gus said quickly. "Back it up." The tech guy nodded and backed the footage up. Henry wondered what was going through the younger guy's head, but Gus was too busy staring at the screen to answer any questions. "Stop it right there!"

The footage stopped on a familiar face. "Is that…?" Henry started.

"Yeah," Gus replied nodding. "I know who has Shawn."

"Get his address and call me," Lassiter snapped at the tech guy after Gus had told them the driver's name. He and Juliet then rushed out of the room. Henry and Gus made to follow, but Vick called them back.

"You're not keeping me from going after my son," Henry snarled turning to look at her.

"I was going to say 'good luck' and 'be careful,'" Karen responded quietly.

"Thanks," Henry replied and he and Gus quickly chased after Lassiter and O'Hara.

_Hang on Shawn, we're coming_.

**Psych**

Shawn woke to a pounding headache. For a split second he nearly panicked when he couldn't see anything, but then he remembered his accident. With that memory others followed, more importantly how he had ended up wherever he happened to be at that moment.

He was on his stomach, his cheek pressed against a cool, stone floor. He could tell his glasses were missing, but a hand to his face revealed his eyes were still covered by the patches.

He slowly sat up, his stomach jolting and his head spinning, and thought about the fight that had occurred. It was over before it even started, his opponents taking advantage of the fact that he couldn't see anything. He recalled getting hit twice-once in the stomach and once in the face-before he cracked his head against the side of a desk.

He figured he lost his sunglasses sometime during the fight, and couldn't help feeling a little bummed about that. He really hoped they weren't broken, they cost Gus fifty bucks.

A door open, somewhere to his left, and he heard creaking as someone descended, what he figured were, stairs. He quietly counted the steps-fifteen totally-and tracked the booted feet before they stopped just above the faux-psychic. He heard a familiar rattle, as if someone was recovering from a cold, and felt a jolt of surprise roll through him. He had not been expecting this.

"So, are you the mastermind or the lackey?" he asked curiously.

"You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?" It didn't escape Shawn that his question had been ignored.

Shawn scoffed, shaking his head. "How very unoriginal of you; I mean, 'you couldn't leave well enough alone?' You might as well tattoo 'stereotypical bad guy' across your…" Spencer was cut off when a fist met his face. He tasted blood as his head snapped to the side. "Is that any way to treat a blind man?"

"I knew I didn't like you," the voice replied softly.

"Oh, but Wheezer, I liked you so much," Shawn muttered. "Let me guess, you wear size ten. Though, how Lassie can mix a woman's shoe with a man's…" the faux-psychic trailed off. "Were you wearing Annie's shoes?"

"Get up," Wheezer snapped, ignoring Shawn's comment again, and Spencer was yanked to his feet.

"Hey, hey, hey," he shouted as he was unceremoniously shoved up the steps. "I told you, I can't see."

Wheezer sighed in frustration, but kept a grip on Shawn's arm as he guided him up the steps. He stopped short at the top of the stairs, obviously looking for something, and finally Shawn was shoved again. This time he tripped over his feet and ended up on the floor.

"This is abuse," he snapped turning over onto his back.

"What do you know?" a new voice said, accompanied by a familiar scent.

"Okay, which one of you is the mastermind?" Shawn questioned looking towards the area where Aftershave's, Emmanuel's, voice came. If they could ignore his questions than he could ignore theirs'.

"Answer the question," Wheezer growled and a foot connected with Shawn's side.

"God, nothing," the faux-psychic exclaimed. "I suspect one of you is Annie's ex-boyfriend and killed Sam and the first victim. I believe one of you used her shoes to throw the police off; meaning one of you has little feet. Let's hope that wasn't a turn off for Annie."

"Is that what she told you?" Emmanuel questioned curiously. "Lying slut."

"So, she's the mastermind?" Shawn was starting to get confused. Someone had to be the mastermind, and if it was Annie then why did she want Sam and the first victim dead?

"Oh, yeah, she's the mastermind," Wheezer replied and Shawn could hear him nod his head. "She made the deal with that rich yuppie. She watched as Em and I killed that douche bag. She killed Sam…" Wheezer trailed off when Emmanuel growled, no doubt realizing he was sharing _way_ too much.

"You know, if you two take me to the station you can work out some kind of deal. I mean, she goes to jail, I live, and you two only spend a few years in jail instead of a few decades."

"I've got a better idea," Emmanuel said softly and Shawn heard the hammer pull back on a gun. "We kill you and the slut and everyone goes home happy."

"Or there's that," Shawn muttered slowly. It was one of those times he was glad he couldn't see. He'd much rather not see the face of the person who was about to shoot him.

"Any last words?" Wheezer asked curiously, a sneer in his voice.

"Someone please use my Sizzler gift card," Spencer replied without hesitation. "Make sure you order something good on me though. I don't want it to go to waste."

"Do you ever shut up?" Emmanuel snarled and Shawn could 'see' his finger tightening on the trigger. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway. You'll be dead soon enough."

Shawn was sure he was dead, could practically 'see' the bullet entering his flesh, but before Emmanuel or Wheezer could kill him, he heard splintering wood and someone shout, "SBPD, on the floor now!"

"Oh Lassieface, I'll never say another bad thing about you," Shawn said when he heard Emmanuel put the gun down and lie down.

"Shut up, Spencer," Lassiter grumbled, but Shawn knew that was his way of asking if he were okay.

"Shawn!" he heard Juliet call his name and soon he was being pulled to his feet. "Are you okay?" she asked worriedly.

"How's my face?" Shawn retorted wishing he could look in a mirror.

"Fine," Jules replied softly.

"Then I'm fine. Still can't see, but I'm alive."

As Emmanuel and Wheezer were escorted out of the house, Wheezer screaming it was all Annie's fault they were even involved, Shawn was pulled into a hug by his father and Gus. "You need to stop doing this," Henry berated him trying and failing to keep his voice even.

"I got the bad guys didn't I?" Shawn asked curiously.

"Not all of them," Juliet informed Shawn. "We need to find Annie."

"That is if she's involved," Lassiter's voice said as he approached the group. "We'll bring her in just in case."

"Even Lassie has good ideas now and then," Shawn muttered, and he could practically hear Lassiter roll his eyes as he stalked away.

"See you later," Jules said softly giving Shawn a quick hug before chasing after her partner. "Go back to your dad's," she called over her shoulder.

"Am I in trouble?" Shawn asked his father and Gus. They didn't say anything, but he could feel their glares on him. "Oh, come on guys, I caught the bad guys. That has to count for something, right?" They still didn't say anything. "Well, it does for me."

**Psych**

**I was starting to lose interest with the case portion of this story, but I do plan to have Shawn angst in the next chapter. And speaking of chapters, I predict one or two more, _maybe_ three. It really depends on how much more I feel like writing.**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and alerted last chapter. You guys are awesome.**

**So, thanks for reading, I own nothing, and I should go.**

**SEE YA!**


	8. Epilogue

It had been a week since the case closed. The cops managed to find Annie, holed up in a motel three towns over. She confessed after some grilling from Lassie and Juliet. She had had the first victim killed after a deal between them went bad, and Sam had witnessed the murder.

Shawn had gotten all this information from Gus, Juliet, and his father. None of them would let him near the police station, they were more preoccupied with him getting better. His doctor said he should be seeing blurry shapes, but he had yet to see anything since he was able to uncover his eyes. In fact, he was starting to think he may never be able to see again.

Of course, he hadn't shared these worries with anyone. He suspected Gus knew, but he had followed Shawn's example and didn't say anything. For that Shawn was extremely grateful.

Shawn was sitting on his father's couch, listening to the radio (it was what he had been reduced to) when he smelt a familiar perfume. "Hey Jules," he greeted as Kurt Smith sung about everyone wanting to rule the world.

"That's scary how you do that," she replied, and he felt the couch dip as she sat next to him.

"Psychic, remember?" he retorted giving her a half-hearted grin. The room fell into a heavy silence as Tears For Fears wrapped up their song and Creedence Clearwater Revival started singing about seeing the rain. Shawn wished he could see anything even if it was the rain.

"You'll see again," Jules said softly, taking his hand in hers. "I know you will." He wasn't used to people being able to read him like that-with the exception of his father and Gus of course.

"And if I don't?" he whispered, voicing the one worry he had been hiding from since the accident.

"You'll adjust," she responded resting her head on his shoulder. "You're a psychic, remember?"

Shawn smiled and lightly kissed her hair. It was times like these he loved that he found Jules and hated that he kept this secret from her. Sometimes he wished he could just come clean, tell her he wasn't really a psychic, but he knew he could never ask her to keep this from the people she cared about. She may be his girlfriend, but she was also a dedicated cop. She couldn't hide this from Lassie or Vick. He'd be much safer if he kept quiet.

So, he opted to say, "Thanks Jules."

"Anytime," she replied and they continued to listen to the radio. CCR was soon replaced by Boston crooning about it being more than a feeling. It was nice to just sit and relax with Jules. Shawn needed more days like this; being half-crazy with 'psychicness' was exhausting sometimes.

"What are you thinking?" Jules asked into his ear.

"That my dad needs to replace that chair," he replied pointing at the ghastly purple… _Wait, was he seeing that chair?_

"Are you seeing that chair?" Jules sat up, turning Shawn's head to see her. Her face was blurry, but he could make it out enough to see her button nose and blue eyes.

"I'm not just seeing the chair," he whispered with a smile on his face. She grinned back and lightly kissed his lips.

"I told you," she murmured.

"Maybe you're psychic, too," he suggested studying her face like he had never seen it before.

"Maybe I am," she replied and kissed him again. It wasn't much, but he could see something. And it'd get better, like the doctor said, and everything would go back to normal. Though, he made a silent promise to keep working on his other senses. Just in case because like his father told him a long time ago: he had to broaden his horizons.

**FIN...**

**PSY****CH**

**I know I said I'd try for more chapters, but honestly guys I was starting to get a little bored. Not that I didn't enjoy this story immensely I just have a short attention span. Sorry.  
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**Anyway, I want to thank every, single on of you who reviewed, alerted, favorited, or stuck to this story until the end. You guys are incredible and I cannot thank you enough.**

**So, I hope you enjoyed this, I do not own any of the recognizable characters above, and I will see you in my next Psych story... whenever I think of an awesome plot for you guys.**

**See ya and drop a comment.**


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